


Wildfire

by grappel



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Explicit Sexual Content, Masochism, Minor Violence, Multi, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Sadism, Where Julian is the world's best switch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 21:25:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12734592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grappel/pseuds/grappel
Summary: Julian left you.He walked away from you, left you high and dry, as if it was his decision to make.He told you what was best for you, he didn't listen to what you had to say, and you were not going to tolerate that.You knew how to speak his language, though.





	1. Take Him off Guard

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is also posted on my tumblr, themagicianslover.tumblr.com, you should check it out!

Julian left you.

It didn’t matter if there was something there to end, a relationship, a lust, or just an infatuation. He left you. He swept you off your feet, charmed you with his smile, and made fire slip through your veins for the first time you can remember. He made your heart soar when he lifted your chin up to his face, slowly, letting your eyes slide slowly over his tortuously tall figure. The seams of his leather clad gloves dug into your chin deliciously and you soaked in the smell of worn, supple leather when your eyes closed. He pulled you in for a kiss like none you’ve ever had before. He pinned you to walls, snuck pinches and touches when he could get away with it, smirks and breathy promises in your ear when he couldn’t. You returned in kind, just thinking of the color of his cheeks when your teeth met his sensitive spots made you tremble in excitement.  
He stoked a roaring fire of need in you, and then left you to burn in it.

What gave him the fucking right. 

You were shaking now, struggling to contain yourself next to Asra’s relaxing figure. He had fallen asleep stroking your hair to relax you, insisting that sleep was the best thing for you at the moment. Gently, you pried yourself from the pile of pillows. Asra’s brows furrowed and he yawned as you straightened yourself. You stood deathly still. He rolled over and clutched a bundle of blanket to his chest and his breathing gradually returned to something slow and quiet. You released a quiet sigh of relief and gathered only the bare necessities from the room, you were going to have to hurry if you meant to catch him. 

If he was going to let your relationship go up in flames, you would both burn down with it. 

You let your boots hit the cobblestone loudly, not caring who heard you or what your fiery impulses caused. As you walked by stalls and homes in the night, your fire whipped from you in bursts of magic, slamming shutters and upturned canopies that were too close to your rage. At first your mind tried to scroll through all the possible nooks and crannies he could’ve possibly disappeared to, but you let your instincts take over, they’ve always led you straight. The key he returned to you seemed to burn in your breast pocket, hotter and hotter as you let your feet lead you down winding paths and alleyways so tight you had to turn sideways to squeeze down them. 

You were already shaking in anticipation to see him again, but for wildly different reasons this time. 

Your resolve almost turned to ash the second you saw his monstrous shadow flickering along the next street. He was backing out from a doorway, solemnly apologizing and saying goodbyes to presumably another old acquaintance of his. He nodded hastily, a poor attempt at a smile pulling at his ghostly features, before the silhouetted figure in the doorway closed him out. You watched him silently, waiting for him to notice you now, you were close enough to see him stiffen his shoulders and spin so his good eye was facing you. 

“Please, don’t make this good bye any hard-“

Your temper flared, and your oppressive magic cut him off. He felt your presence push down on him, like he was wearing weights underwater. You stayed at a distance, watching him evaluate and process.

“You left me.”   
“I never said I wanted to, but-“   
“You never asked me what I want!” 

His jaw fell slack in shock, but the pity in his eyes made your blood boil. 

“What made you think you could just walk away? That you could saunter into my life, fill me with warmth and sweet nothings, and then right when I’m high, tear that away from me!?”

You were close to screaming now, and you were vaguely grateful that you were in the further outskirts of the city. You took a step closer to him, now so pale and still he could be mistaken for a statue, and that made you even angrier. You gripped the front of his jacket and pulled him down to you, so that your lips could scrape over his ear with every word. 

“What made you think I would just let you go?” 

He shuddered at that, but he was still speechless. You relaxed your grip a little, so he could see you. You wanted him to look into your eyes and feel what you were feeling. His face was flushed and his lips were trembling. Good. 

“I never meant to hurt you, I’m the only one who deserves to suffer, please, you will only hurt more than you do now if you continue this. I only want what’s best for you.” 

His eye was pleading, but the ice of his despair melted in your blaze. Your eyes narrowed, and a sharp inhale was his only warning.

Crack.

It echoed down the empty streets. He held his face in shock, a bright red handprint, with scrapes where rings would be blossomed on his already impossibly red features. You bared your teeth and snatched the front of his shirt so quickly he was taken off balance and fell to his knees before you. 

“I never said you could make that decision for me. You never did, and you never will. Do you understand me?” 

Your words were hot and thick, spoken barely an inch from his face. He could only lick his lips in apprehension. His indecision, however, was not acceptable. As the cuts on his cheek began to disappear, you traced a gentle hand around his neck, and pressed a sharp, pointed thumbnail into his pulse point. Harmless, in earnest, but the threat, and drawing an intoxicating trickle of blood, was all that you needed. At this point his blush was so dark you couldn’t tell if his bruise was camouflaged, or had already healed. He shakily nodded his head. 

A smirk pulled at the corner of your mouth, “That’s a good boy. You are never, ever to do anything like this again. I want you, and you want me too.” He nodded again, his trembling more from excitement now, though.   
“I want you desperately, Julian. You make me insatiable, and I need to know you, feel you. You cannot throw yourself into the future like this, not without me. We don’t need a perfect future together, I don’t want that ideal future. I want whatever happens with you, because you not being there is not an option, and my input counts just as much as yours does.” 

You turned his head slowly, pulling at his bottom lip with your thumb. He looked up at you through amber eyelashes, and you couldn’t help but lean down to steal a quick kiss from the corner of his mouth. 

“I know you like to be controlled, I know you like to be hurt, and you’ll listen to anything I tell you to do.” 

Defiance still furrowed his brows. 

“You’ve told me you want me, and in doing so, have condemned yourself to this.” 

You drop to your knees in front of him, the water pooled between cobblestones soaking your clothes. You stroke his cheek gently, “Is this deplorable?”   
He shook his head. Another crack, this one not nearly as loud as the first, but equally as startling. 

“Talk to me.”   
“No, no it’s not.” 

Your expression softens again. “Then why do you resist?” 

He worries his bottom lip, but maintains eye contact for fear of being slapped again. Finally, he answers in a quavering voice, 

“I did not think this would be something you would do.” 

This pulls a laugh from your chest, but it is dark and tainted. You see it has the desired effect on him. You lean into him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his impossibly long and delicate neck. The smell of worn leather washes over you, and you feel your chest swell. The feel of him, even through the many layers of his clothes, makes that maddening desire take control. 

Julian stiffens under your touch. 

"That's why I did it."


	2. Build Him Back Up

You stand abruptly, pulling him to his feet as well, taking a moment to savor the heavy lidded look he follows you with. 

“Take me somewhere private,” you instruct. 

The upstairs tavern room is far from ideal, but it serves the purpose. It isn’t the Rowdy Raven, but the cacophony from downstairs still permeated the thin wooden floors. You sit on the bed and cross your legs. Julian stands in the middle of the room awkwardly, surveying his surroundings. Now that you’re confident he won’t run off again, you loosen and relax. 

“Do you want to leave?” 

Your voice is gentle now, just another thing that catches him off guard. 

“No, I don’t want to leave you.”  
“Will you?” 

He’s silent now, and you slide over, patting the spot next to you. He takes the seat on the bed, close as he can without touching you. You bridge the short distance immediately though, pulling his head down into your lap. He relaxes immediately into your warmth. 

“I’m only doing it because I care about you. I couldn’t bear to live with myself any longer if something were to happen to you.”   
“Julian, dear, you couldn’t bear to live with yourself before me, and you won’t be able to bear it after I’m gone.” Your tone is mocking, and it pulls that suave smirk from him, if only for a second. 

“You’re not wrong.”   
“We’ve only known each other for a short time, Julian, but I will not leave unless you earnestly and truly have an issue with our relationship. Your problems will never push me away.”   
“But they will hurt you,” He starts, but your smile tells him the answer he already knew was coming.  
“I love the pain.” 

That makes him release a shuddery breath. He closes his eyes and thinks of the bites you had gifted him only earlier that same day. When he opens his eye again to look up at you, your predatory look only sends more shivers crawling down his spine. 

You pull him upright, even sitting, he towers above you. You smile at him, taking his face into both of your hands. “You’re okay with this?” You ask, a mischievous glint in your eyes that he is beginning to identify as your tell. It takes all his willpower to not flinch away this time once he mutters a small, pleading, “yes.”

Your slap isn’t nearly as loud this time, but it sends him reeling. A groan at once tearing from his lungs. Before he can even reorient himself, you’re straddling him. One hand in thick auburn tresses, wrapped tight, and moving his head in slow and controlled motions. The other is clawing open his jacket and shirt. You consume his mouth greedily, and his nimble and elegant lips do their best to catch up with you despite the ringing in his ear. 

Finally, you pull away to admire your work. His eye flutter opens with a moan, “Fuck, yes.”

It feels as if you are burning alive, your hands tracing over newly exposed skin desperately. He can see you losing control, desperation flicker across your face as your scramble to just touch him.   
He smiles and clasps one of your hands in his. It’s pinned right above his heart, the leather of his hand extinguishing any hope of slipping free of his grasp. You look up to meet his look, and you can do nothing but shake as he stares into your core. In one swift motion you are pinned to the wall next to the bed, his face buried in your neck. 

“Julian,” you moan to the ceiling, fingers tangled in his hair in a half-hearted attempt to pull him from you. You are disappointed with the power shift, but the idea of being powerless to him is simply too appealing. 

“Hm?” He hums coyly, then sinks his teeth into the thin skin right above your collarbone. Your legs go limp, and only his weight pinning you to the wall keeps you upright. He pulls his head free from your hands quickly. Now only his pointed grin keeps you in place as he slowly unclasps your cloak. 

It hits the floor with a whisper, and your hands fly to the hems of your shirt, eager to please him, but he snatches your wrists from you. His voice is quiet and almost loving as he switches your wrists to one hand, his long fingers trapping both of your hands with ease. He bites the fingertip of the glove on the other hand, pulling his hand free agonizingly slow. The glove is long, almost the length of your entire arm, and the soft leather makes a lovely bind for your wrists, he decides.

He stands back, tapping his chin, appraising you. You are fully clothed still, with your arms bound behind your back and a fiery red flush creeping down your neck. He pulls his other glove off and uses his bare hand to caress your cheek. When he leans over to kiss your forehead, you don’t hear him slide the dagger from his boot. It is only when you feel him tugging on the waist of your bottoms that your eyes flutter open. By then, however, his surgically sharp dagger has made short work of anything holding your garments to your waist, and they fall, useless, to the floor with your cloak.   
Shock and intimidation keep you quiet as he pulls the blade up your thigh, higher and higher, until it reaches your neckline. He walks behind you, a hand staying on your abdomen and the other grasping a knife at your collarbone.

“Do you trust me?” He murmurs into your hair, and nuzzles your neck.   
“Of course,”

A gasp is ripped from you when the cold air hits your torso, all the layers of your shirts torn clean in half in a single, fluid motion. The scraps of fabric are dissected, leaving you nude, cold, and bound before him. 

“You are beautiful.” 

His hands slide slowly down your figure, fingers dipping into every crevice, dimple, and curve. The swell of your chest gets an appreciative squeeze, and your thighs break out in goosebumps when he drags his fingernails up your skin. 

“So, you chased me down, you must be very eager for me to hurt you...."   
“Julian, gods, yes… please…”   
You plead, leaning into his form. With your back against his chest, you can feel him laugh before you hear it.  
“Straight to begging? You’re no fun.”   
You turn to face him, placing needy open-mouthed kisses along the center of his chest, where his shirt has fallen open.   
“Do you want to show me how it’s done? I’d gladly switch positions with you.”   
You keen, batting your eyelashes at him. The same sly smile decorates his features, however, and he pushes your hair from your face. “Save that for another night…” He says, dragging a single fingernail down your chest. 

“Because there will be another night.”


	3. ...And Let Him Take Control

That undoes you, you need him and you need him now. You heart swells just looking at him, your nerves ablaze with just a single finger’s touch.   
“Julian, please”   
“Please… what?”  
“Please, touch me, adore me, hurt me. I don’t care, I just need you Julian.” 

Julian growls, and suddenly your hands are free and you’re on your back on the bed. He is tearing his clothes away as if they were burning him, but his eye never leaves you. You reach up to caress his face, pull his hair, drag fingernails down his back over and over in the same spot until you feel the slick warmth of blood under your nails. He groans loudly, finally freeing himself from his last articles of clothing. He pushes your legs apart with his knees, making a spot for himself between your thighs. He drops just low enough to kiss you hungrily.   
“Are you ready?” He asks you, lining himself up with your entrance.   
You nod eagerly, pulling his face into the curve of your neck as he begins to push himself into you.   
It goes slow, with little preparation, but he reaches down to pleasure you as you bite into his neck. Harder and harder, you’re running out of places to mark, leaving bruises and bitemarks along every inch of skin you can reach. You moan together, and finally, he rests his entire length inside of you.   
He pushes himself up, smiling down at you victoriously. Before he could open his mouth to say something clever, however, you made his eye roll with a particularly hard rake of your nails down his back and a simultaneous roll of your hips. When he moans in approval you only moan in return, but in an almost mocking tone. 

“What was that Julian? Were you about to say something?” 

He smiles, a breathy laugh escaping him as he begins a slow and deep rhythm.   
“No, nothing at all…” he replies, but surprises you with a sudden position shift. He’s lifted your legs straight up, holding both ankles in a single massive hand. The noises you make are almost embarrassing, your deepest spots being massaged and throwing you closer to the edge than you wanted to be this early on. 

“Oh fuck yes, gods yes, I love it.” He pants, “Let me hear you, tell me how good I feel, say my name…” pleading, he releases your ankles and folds over on you. His pace is faster now, and you scream for him. You scream in ecstasy, you scream because it feels as if your fire is burning you both alive, searing your nerves and melting the edges between you. You scream his name because it’s the only word you know now, but even it doesn’t seem to be able describe him anymore. 

And when your fire is impossibly bright and painfully hot, he stops. 

Now you scream and claw at him out of betrayal, with tears pricking your eyes. Before you can protest too much, however, he flips you over so you are straddling him.   
“I want to finish like this,” he says, admiring your hips and the languid way they rolls with his thrusts, and he says it so sweetly that you simply can't stay angry at him.   
Instead you match his pace, urging him faster once you see his back begin to arch off of the bed. You lean down, holding his jaw tight, and moan into his ear,

“Cum for me, Julian.” 

At your command he bucks, hands so tight on your hips they bruise, and the coil of tension in his hips snaps. His throbbing and hurried, reckless pace pushes you over the edge just like you knew it would. You vaguely feel his release inside of you as your fire releases in a single, final flare that reaches the stars. 

You sit there for a moment, only the hot coals of the afterglow keeping you upright. Exhaustion is quickly approaching, though, so you use this moment to admire Julian below you. His chest is heaving, shining with sweat even though it is an abnormally cold night. His eye eventually flutters open, looking at you fondly. He hums happily, rubbing your thigh. 

“I wanted this more than anything,” he confesses, then stifling a yawn. You pull yourself from him, finally, and lay next to him.

“I did too, Julian. You are… incredibly important to me. More than any other person I’ve known. I feel like I’ve known you for my whole life.” 

He rolls over to throw an arm over you, but you shake your head and roll him away from you. Even if you are dwarfed by his size, you know he needs to be held. 

“I think I have known you my whole life…” he says, squeezing your hand and pushing back into your warmth. You pull a thin sheet over both of you, and leave a trail of kisses down his spine. 

“Maybe you have.”


End file.
